


When You Smile

by Yolatirra



Series: A One and Only Cypher [3]
Category: Anthem (Video Game)
Genre: Boys confused about their feelings, Dancing, M/M, Parallels, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Slightly a songfic, boys having feelings, boys talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 07:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18205625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yolatirra/pseuds/Yolatirra
Summary: He curled his fingers tight around the paper in his pocket, imagining he could hear it crinkle over the noise of the festival and the fountain behind him. It had been haunting him all day, darkening his mood despite the constant enthusiasm of Owen's presence.He shut his eyes against the ache in his chest, hands curling to fists in the pockets of his jacket.





	When You Smile

**Author's Note:**

> This fic comes in two parts! Posting part 1 now, with part 2 coming in probably a few days. Part 1 is pre-game, part 2 is post-game. This whole thing was entirely inspired by the song "Smile" by Jungle, because Owen's smile is a perfect, gorgeous thing.
> 
> Here's the song: https://vimeo.com/292050260  
> And the lyrics: https://genius.com/Jungle-smile-lyrics

He curled his fingers tight around the paper in his pocket, imagining he could hear it crinkle over the noise of the festival and the fountain behind him. It had been haunting him all day, darkening his mood despite the constant enthusiasm of Owen's presence.

When he'd arrived in Ponteix and found out his next strider was delayed by at least a week, he might have panicked a little. He'd brought some money in case of emergencies, of course. Striders were delayed all the time. But what was he supposed to do by himself in an unfamiliar city? For the first few days he'd just stayed in his cheep little hotel room, listening to the radio and rereading his books pilot training books. By day four he couldn't stand it anymore, so he'd gone out to explore. He figured he could find the Ponteix forge, maybe even find pilot lessons and ask if he could watch. 

Instead he'd gotten his wallet stolen. And somehow, in the process of getting it back, he'd made friends with the thief. Maybe the best friend he'd ever had, even after just a week.

He shut his eyes against the ache in his chest, hands curling to fists in the pockets of his jacket.

"Anthem to Freelancer!"

He swore and jerked away from the voice  _right in his fucking ear_ before his mind registered it as Owen _._  Owen backed off and burst into giggles. Steadying himself, he managed a glare in the little shit's direction, which only made him laugh harder.

"Oh your face was  _priceless_!" Owen managed between gasps for air. "You know you've got to be more aware of your surroundings once you're out there in a javelin."

"Once I'm in a javelin you'd end up electrocuted for a stunt like that," he muttered, which certainly didn't make Owen laugh any less. He sighed. "So did you come back just to startle me or did you actually find food already?

"I did!" Owen got control of his laughter and plopped down on the stone bench next to him, close enough that their elbows touched. He rummaged around in one of his pockets. "They were giving out free sandwiches, can you believe it? I think it's some charity organization trying to do something nice because of Freemark. Free food never fails to cheer people up."

The reminder of the recently destroyed city didn't exactly help his mood, but he managed to return Owen's delighted grin with a smile as the younger boy handed him a wrapped sandwich. "That's good." He said. "I'm running a bit short on money."

Owen shrugged. "Hey, I didn't ask you to buy me food."

He shot Owen an incredulous look. "You did. You literally did."

"Okay, like, twice. Three times maybe. Mostly in the first day." Owen took a bite of his sandwich and closed his eyes while chewing it, like it was the best thing he's ever tasted. It definitely wasn't. The bread was a bit soggy and it didn't look like the freshest thing, but hey, it was free, so he wasn't going to complain. Owen opened his eyes again and pointed a finger at him, "you can't blame me for the rest, you just keep feeding me."

"Yeah, well, you'd starve if I didn't," he said, then took a bite of his own sandwich. Yeah, not the best, but it was edible. Glancing to his side, he caught a flicker of uncertainty on Owen's face. "I don't actually mind," he said, gently bumping their shoulders together in reassurance. "Really, I don't. Just wish I'd known I was going to make a friend with no money so I could have asked my mom for enough to feed both of us."

Owen snorted. "Would she have given it to you?"

"Eh. Probably."

"Your mom sounds lovely."

"Yeah, she's pretty great. I mean, she gets on my nerves sometimes, but I guess any parent would. Just part of the deal, you know?"

"Yeah," Owen murmured. He sounded... not sad, exactly. Introspective, maybe? Either way, it was strange. He looked over at him, wondering if he should ask if Owen was okay, but something on the ground had caught his attention. Owen leaned forward and picked it up, turning it over in his fingers. It was a small, crumpled sheet of paper. 

He quickly slipped his hand in to his pocket. It was empty. Fuck, the message must have fallen out when Owen startled him. He watched, frozen in place as Owen carefully unfolded it. His expression was faintly curious, like he expected it to be a shopping list or something equally mundane. 

Owen's face went slack as his eyes followed the words. He glanced sideways, their eyes meeting for one heart-stopping moment, before reading it again. Then he crumpled it back up, holding it in his fist. "You're leaving," he said flatly.

He swallowed, managed to say, "I... yeah."

"Tomorrow."

"Yeah."

"Were you going to mention that? anytime before tomorrow?"'

"I couldn't find a good time--"

"So you were just going to disappear in the morning and let me wonder where you'd gone?"

"No!" It came out louder than he meant, loud enough that a few people glanced over. He ignored them and held Owen's hurt, angry gaze for one second, two. Then he couldn't anymore and looked down at his feet. "I wanted to tell you. Really, I did. But Owen..." He swallowed, ran a hand down his face. "This has been the best week of my life. I don't want it to end. I don't want to leave. But I can't stay here and you can't come with me and I guess I just... some part of me hoped that if I didn't acknowledge it I wouldn't have to go."

There was a long silence. He mentally prepared for all the worst possibilities, where Owen stormed off, or decided it was best to say his goodbyes now, or just... left. And didn't say anything at all.

 A hand fell heavily on his shoulder. It rested there for a minute, then shifted across his back, curling around him in a one-armed embrace. Owen rested their heads together and let out a heavy sigh  "I get it, mate," he said. "It's been the best week of my life too."

His breath rushed out, guilt and relief churning in his chest as he leaned into Owen's side. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Owen's hand found his and pressed the crumpled paper into it. "I'm still pissed you didn't tell me."

He let out a dark chuckle as he slipped the paper back into his pocket, stuffing it deep so it wouldn't fall out again. "You probably should be."

Owen huffed, then shoved him gently away. "Now eat your bloody sandwich."

He rubbed away the moisture in his eyes, then did as he was told. Owen was wonderful, aside from the pranks and attempts at petty crime. He was kind. Understanding. Maybe someday they'd find each other again. If he could make himself believe that, maybe he'd be able to get on that strider in the morning and say goodbye with a smile.

They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, shoulders touching. Not far away, someone started playing drums. Owen tapped his feet to the rhythm, bouncing a little on the bench as he ate. It made a fond smile creep onto his face and he hid it by stuffing his mouth with the last of his sandwich.

Owen finished his own and twisted around, looking over his shoulder. "Oh, hey, people are dancing!" 

"Hmm?"

"And it looks like anyone can join in." He sprung to his feet, dusting his hands off on his pants. Spinning on his heel, he half-bowed, extending a hand. "Care to dance, Freelancer?"

He choked a little on his saliva. "Umm... what?"

"You do know what dancing is, right?"

He gave Owen a thoroughly unimpressed look. 

Owen pouted for a moment, then dropped his hand and sighed. "Oh, you're no fun," he said, then turned and started walking toward the music. 

"The fact that you've chosen to hang out with me for several entire days says otherwise," he called after him as he vanished into the gathering crowd. He let out an exasperated sigh, then dropped their trash in a bin before following his wayward friend.

The drums had been joined by other instruments now, creating an energetic, upbeat rhythm. Even considering the festival, the cheerful tone felt almost jarring. Bastion had just lost one of its oldest, largest cities not two months ago. Most people were still reeling, mourning so much lost life and history. There'd been a constant undercurrent of melancholy everywhere since then, like no one quite knew how to enjoy themselves anymore. Even here, at the festival. But maybe that was why the musicians had chosen music like this. An unflinching determination to find joy in the face of tragedy.

He weaved his way through the crowd, keeping an eye out for Owen as he listened to the lyrics.

_When you smile, the world feels a little better. I just want to see you smile._

When he spotted Owen, he couldn't help a grim. Owen wasn't exactly a good dancer, but his enthusiasm made it work. He watched him, both amused and a little impressed, tapping his foot to the beat of the drums. 

Owen spotted him and slowed enough to meet his gaze. He raised his brow in a clear challenge. 

Well. Okay, why not. He might make an utter fool of himself, but if it made Owen smile, it was all worth it. 

Owen looked delighted as he jogged forward to join him. "Found your courage, did you?"

"Shut up."

Owen's smile softened to something almost fond. "Sorry. I'll stop teasing. Just listen to the music and follow my lead. Ignore everyone else."

It was hard to pay attention to anyone else with Owen smiling at him like that. 

Something he couldn't read flicked across Owen's face, then the younger boy huffed a laugh and closed his eyes. "Just you and me, Freelancer."

Right. Follow his lead. He took a breath and forced himself to move. 

It was remarkably easy once he started. Somehow they moved together, different styles meshing with an ease he never would have expected, drifting apart only to come back together, like they'd been doing this for years.

_You and I can take over the world. I just think of you and I._

They spun to a stop as the song ended and applause roared up around them. He didn't pay any attention to it, just stared back at Owen, both of them panting and grinning. 

Owen was the first to break eye contact. He gave the crowd a cursory glance, then grabbed hold of his arm and led him away from the music, toward a more secluded area of the courtyard. He could feel the eyes of the crowd on his back as they jogged away, but he didn't care. Owen was giggling and grinning as bright as the sun and he'd never felt like this before in his life.

When they stopped, they both leaned against a wall, close enough that they were leaning on each other as much as the stone. Owen's head dropped onto his shoulder as they laughed, breath cooling his heated skin.

"I think we left quite the impression," Owen said, once they'd calmed a bit. "You're not half-bad, you know."

"That was amazing," he said, then pushed off from the wall to pull Owen into a hug. A proper hug, arms wrapped tight around his back and shoulders. "You were amazing."

For a moment Owen didn't seem sure what to do with himself. Then his arms curled around his back and pulled him in tight, forehead dropping into the crook of his neck, short hair tickling his skin. "You really think that?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I do." He felt Owen's hand fist in the back of his shirt, and he let his head drop forward with a sigh. "I'm going to miss you, Owen."

Owen nodded into his shoulder, letting out a breath that stuttered against his skin. Then he pulled away, scrubbed quickly at his shining blue eyes, then gave him a lopsided smile. "Yeah. Hey, maybe we'll run into each other again someday."

The lump in his throat was big enough to hurt, but he managed a smile in return and said, "yeah. Someday."


End file.
